He rested the back of his hand against my forehead, his jaw setting even tighter. “You’re burning up.”
My words came out uneven through chattering teeth as I asked, “Where is he?”
“Reese is at the hospital with Mark and Carly. They’re all okay,” Adam assured.
It should have given me some sense of relief to hear that, but I just shook my head.
He understood. “You don’t need to worry. He’s down in the cellar, shackled in silver—”
“I need to see him.”
Fear struck those deep blue eyes as they widened, and he involuntarily jerked back as if I might…as if I might bite him.
“He’s the only one who really knows what’s happening to me. You have to take me to him. I need to know the truth. I need to know…” if Adam should just kill me now. It might be more merciful.
“I can’t do that—”
“Then I’ll go on my own.” I flung the blanket off, immediately regretting it. The cold air sliced into me, making me shake even harder. I tried climbing off the mattress, only to have my legs give out on me. Adam was quick to react, catching me before I toppled into the nightstand.
“You look like shit,” he murmured.
“Thanks.”
His eyes were still sharp, but he let out a steadier breath. “You’ll be lucky to get down the hall before passing out. The moment anyone sees you, they’ll know something’s up.”
“Then help me.”
Adam bit out another curse as he wrapped his jacket around me. The warm leather fabric swaddled me tightly enough that it actually managed to repress my trembling body from full-on convulsing. His sturdy grip secured me under my arm as he hauled me out of the corridors. Most of the time, my feet didn’t even touch the ground. He only set me down when we crossed an occasional passerby. Adam always nodded, and I made sure to keep my head down. I swiped away the beads of sweat dampening my forehead for the billionth time as he carried me down to the basement level.
We rounded the bend, and a brawny man, around thirty, immediately pinned a hand to Adam’s chest. “You can’t be down here.”
“I’m on orders from my father. Leave,” he ordered. “Now.”
The man hesitated, giving me a wary once-over, but left the way we came and headed upstairs.
The air was thick and damp, reeking of mold and mildew. Adam guided me past several empty stalls equipped to look like old prison cells. Instead of a door blocking off each small space, thick metal bars rested between us and the inside of the enclosures. The cells were stripped of everything except for steel brackets mounted into the walls.
We approached the fifth compartment, and I had to stifle the urge to vomit. A part of me thought it would make me feel better to see Blaine like this. But staring at him, staring at the blistering red burns that charred his exposed chest… I staggered back.
“I was wondering when you’d pay me a visit.” Blaine’s eyes weren’t even open. He sat on the floor, his back resting against the far wall. Chains sat around him, the ends hooked into the thick brackets I now realized were for securing his shackles. They rattled as he moved his hands ever so slightly across the damp cement floor. His wrists… The skin was literally charcoaled black where his wrists were bound, steam simmering off the silver manacles.
Bile rose in my throat as I finally lifted my gaze to his face, only to find him already staring back.
His nostrils flared as he surveyed me. “Well, you look rather worse for wear. I take it you haven’t given into your baser instincts yet?”
“How long do I have?” I gnashed, trying to mask my pain with the bitterness that already coated my lips.
“How long?” he repeated drolly.
“How long does this last for? When will I…?”
“If you resign yourself to it, it’ll be over in a matter of seconds.”
“And if I keep fighting it?”
“Then I’d seriously begin doubting your competence.” He rolled his eyes as I grimaced. “Hate to break it to you, love, but you’ve looked better. And no,” Blaine said, cutting Adam off the moment he opened his mouth. “There isn’t a cure. Her body will eventually concede, willing or not. She’s got twelve hours, a day at the most.”
“What is she going to become?” gritted Adam.
“She’s an extension of me now. She’ll become faster, stronger, more agile.” A seared hand flicked to my concealed arm. “She’ll finally be able to put that beautiful artwork to real use.”
“Not a Hellhound?” The words were like poison on my tongue.